Tall-case clockmakers preserve time-honored craftsmanship

PHILADELPHIA -- In a dusty, sunlit workshop, James S. Shott carves time out of tiger maple and cherry wood.

For a month, he chisels, scrapes, sands and polishes. Then he mounts a brass-and-steel movement behind a hand-painted enamel face that reads "J.S. Shott -- Schwenksville."

An heirloom is born.

The grandfather clock, once a high-tech status symbol, is now a rare, high-demand antique.

Shott is one of a handful of craftsmen in the country exclusively making reproductions of 18th- and 19th-century grandfather clocks. He does it the old-fashioned way -- one at a time, by hand.

His reproductions are based on styles from this region, an important center for clockmaking in 18th- and early-19th-century America.

Selling for $9,000 to $15,000, Shott's clocks have found a market among furniture-lovers who appreciate quality and are looking for heirlooms, but do not necessarily want to spend $50,000 or more for a fine antique.

"I'd like to try to get people, instead of buying a Mercedes, to buy a Honda and a clock," Shott said.

Today, clock-lovers gush about the old instruments with an enthusiasm and a nit-picking scrutiny that could fluster even the haughtiest wine snob.

For example, they will tell you that a grandfather clock is actually called a tall-case clock. If a clock does not strike, it is not a clock, it's a timepiece. And clocks don't "strike" at a quarter- or half-past the hour: They "chime."

Tall-case clocks are complicated: a joint effort between the clockmaker, who assembles the sprockets and wheels that make the clock run; the cabinetmaker, who builds the wooden case; and the dial painter, who decorates the face of the clock with flowers, shells, ships or stars.

Tall-case clocks from different regions sport distinctive features. New Jersey clocks are famous for colorful wood inlay. Many from the Philadelphia area are topped with a broken arch, decorative knobs called flame finials, and daisy or sunflower rosettes.

With so many variables, the value of antique clocks varies wildly.

"A good clock could bring tens of thousands of dollars, with a truly exceptional clock bringing into the six figures," said Philip Bradley, an antique-clock dealer in Downingtown, Pa. Or, he added, an old clock might be worth virtually nothing. It all depends on condition.

Robert E. Johnson, a cabinetmaker and furniture restorer, said he had started to build more reproduction clocks as demand for the antiques had gone up.

"Clocks are really hot," he said. "Any good, signed Philadelphia clock is (worth) anywhere from $75,000 to $500,000."

Leonard Marschark of Bedminster, Pa., has been making tall-case clocks exclusively for the last six years. Like Shott and Johnson, Marschark uses traditional materials and old-school techniques.

He also customizes clocks. For a horse breeder, for example, he ordered a dial with the silhouette of a horse that moved slowly across the clock's face.

Such detailed craftsmanship is a dying art. Across the country, only about 20 or 30 craftsmen are making tall-case clocks today. David Lindow, 33, a clockmaker from Gravity, Pa., supplies clockworks to all three craftsmen, and says he is the only traditional clockmaker left in the United States.

Lindow uses some electric machines, but still assembles the clockworks, which cost about $1,000 each when finished, by hand. He sells about 100 of them a year through wholesale suppliers and directly to craftsmen.

They are built to last at least 200 years. If cleaned and oiled regularly, Lindow said, they will last "indefinitely."

Shott is counting on that. Inside each clock he sells is a small slot with a neatly folded, acid-free paper bearing the name of his business: Perkiomen Clock Co.

On one side, there are instructions for maintaining the clock.

On the other, a long, blank space, topped with a single word: "History."